


The Panty Snatcher

by IrisoPage



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Autofellatio, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Other, Panty Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisoPage/pseuds/IrisoPage
Summary: Snatcher has taken a liking to spending time in your bedroom. You don't seem to mind it until certain belongings go missing.
Relationships: Snatcher (A Hat in Time)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 107





	The Panty Snatcher

**Author's Note:**

> I started playing the game a few days ago and fell in love. Why has no one made this pun yet?

After a long day of nothing special in particular, you can’t wait to relax at home. You make a beeline to your bedroom as you peel off your clothes on the long journey there.

It wasn't until you’re half naked, that you spot **_HIM_ **in the mirror. Sure, you weren’t on the worst of terms with him, but you definitely weren’t on terms where he should manifest in your room randomly.

"Why are you in my room!?"

"Oh? This is your room? I _thought_ it looked rather sad and pathetic.” Snatcher glances around as if he’s suddenly aware of his surroundings. He's comfortably seated on your bed, a book in his lap and a grin on his face, as always.

“WHY ARE YOU IN HERE?”

“This is where I come to masturbate.”

You stare at him for a moment, a mixture of shock and disgust slapped across your face. The thought crosses your mind of which surfaces could be contaminated, and wonder if you should abandon ship.

“AHAHAHAHAHA! You should see the look on your face!” He cackles in the classic Snatcher manner.

You haven’t heard that laugh since… _every time you see him._

“It’s almost cozy in here, and you’ve got some half decent reading material.” He justifies his unexpected visit. That was his version of a compliment anyway.

“Get out.” You order, really not wanting someone who was obsessed with stealing souls suddenly taking up residency in your bedroom.

“I just got here! You won’t even notice me!” As if you wouldn’t notice the giant ghost on your bed. “It’s not like anyone planned on visiting your bedroom tonight anyway.”

“You don’t… _you don’t know that.”_ Who does he think he is judging your personal life? “And I’m using it! Right now! Get out!”

“I didn’t even notice you until you started yelling.” He shrugs, eyes going back to the book he had taken from your shelf.

“I wouldn’t have yelled if you were sitting, hmm, _literally anywhere else that isn’t my own bed.”_ You point out.

"Did you expect _ME_ to sit on the floor?" He gestures to himself like he was offended.

“Can you at least let me know when you’re going to just pop in like this?”

Unexpected guests are the worst kind.

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't. I'm not obligated to do anything of the sort."

Right, _obligations,_ one of his favorite words.

“Sooooo, are you going to get dressed? Because this might actually be a good look for you.” He winks.

You’re suddenly reminded of your state of undress. You turn away from him, your face burning up, either out of embarrassment or anger, you’re not sure. When you’re sure he’s occupied with his book, you get dressed again.

His visits became more frequent, though they stayed the usual amount of intrusive throughout them. Most of the time, he was fairly behaved. Though once he parked himself in your bed, he refused to move unless it was on his own terms.

You refused to make a contract with him just to get him to shoo. So, you would have to get used to him as a semi permanent fixture in your room, among other things. Pillows were constantly tossed in a pile, your bookshelf became a prime example of the dewey decimal system, and you often found your plushies rearranged in inappropriate positions. Still, it was better than having him going around causing trouble, so you reluctantly let him stay.

You almost don't want to admit that you started getting attached to him. Sure, his self proclaimed claim to fame was that he ate souls and anyone who entered his domain would never leave, but that’s not _all_ that he ever did. When you got to know him, learned the importance of tolerance and acquired a taste for his morbid sense of humor, he wasn’t a half bad guy to hang around with.

All this was fine and dandy, until you noticed things go missing. At first, it was just a few books out of place. You assume he took them home to read. Rude, but not entirely unreasonable. A few supplies ran out more quickly than usual, but still not enough to warrant any concern. Even when he took a few pieces of junk mail, it wasn’t worth the effort to bring it up. (He made sure to hand deliver all of your bills and jury duty summons to you, _personally_ and with a smile.)

That is, until you noticed that very specific items started going missing. Very _intimate_ specific items. Specifically, your intimate _clothing_ items. These specific items that would have only gone missing if someone went specifically searching for them.

You would set a trap to prove your suspicion. You bought a pair of the purplest, frilliest panties you could find. They perfectly matched Snatcher’s aesthetic. No panty thief could resist. 

You hid them in the back of the dresser drawer, as if you already had them for a good while. When they were still there after a few of his visits, you washed them.

Sure enough, when you pulled your laundry out of the washing machine, they were nowhere to be found. Unless your washer suddenly became possessed and had an appetite for skivvies, you had an idea of where they went. 

How exactly you would address this, you would have to figure out. Despite Snatcher being, well, _Snatcher,_ he wouldn’t admit to being a panty thief so easily. Next time you found him reclining in your bed, you went about your business as usual. 

“Don’t you think my bookshelf is looking a bit bare as of lately?” You point to several empty gaps on the shelf.

“I suppose so.” He shrugs, keeping his attention on a book that probably belonged on that shelf.

“I wonder where they went…” You sigh as you stare at the barren spaces longingly.

“It’s a mystery.”

“Can you bring my books back when you’re done with them?” You ask bluntly, clearly not getting anywhere with being subtle.

“Fine.”

“Can you also bring back the pillows you took?”

“Fine.”

“And can you bring my panties back when you’re done with them?”

“Fine.”

“So you _do_ have my panties?”

“Fine.”

“Snatcher!” You snap, more so to get his attention then out of anger.

“What? What are you yelling about now?” He finally looks up from his book, clearly having not heard any of what you were saying.

_“Panty Snatcher.”_

“Is that why you’re whining? Don’t you have bigger things to worry about? World Peace? Perhaps solving hunger?”

“Panty Snatcher! Panty Snatcher!” You cry accusingly.

He shuts his book.

_“Care to repeat that statement a third time?”_ His voice dangerously low, as if this would summon some sort of unmentionable demon.

"What do you even want with them?" You can’t decide what would be worse, the expected perverted reasoning, or if he was doing some sort of cryptic ghost ritual with them.

"I find the act far more enjoyable than the result. Mostly, because you have lousy taste in undergarments."

_Ah, the perverted reasoning._

"I _would_ like them back at some point. Or have you already defiled them past the point of no return?" You would only consider taking them back if they were still recognizable as underwear.

“Like I said, it’s more for the act, than the result.” A purr to his voice as if he were proud of being a dignified kleptomaniac.

You have no idea what that was supposed to mean anymore.

"I haven't even worn those purple ones yet.”

**_"WHAT!?"_ **

"It was all a setup! A trap I planted! And you fell for it! You can't even steal panties properly!" You heckle him with all you've got. "Who's the fool now!?"

“Why were they in with your laundry if you hadn’t even worn them? Do you _enjoy_ being wasteful?”

“Because it’s rude to just take someone’s things without asking.” You think asking Snatcher to have a bit of decency was too much for him, but that wouldn’t stop you from trying to teach him a lesson.

“Would you prefer I _ask_ for your panties?” He suggests an alternative.

“No? Because you shouldn’t be anywhere near my underwear?” You look at him in disbelief, but it clearly doesn’t register with him. “Go back to your book. What could be so interesting that you’ve had your nose buried in it for so long anyway?”

_“Your diary~”_

Another day passes, another night to unwind like a cheap fast food toy. You can’t wait to do absolutely nothing at home, since it was much better than doing absolutely nothing outside. After all, outside is where people are. You were hoping to have your place to yourself, but you stop in your tracks when you hear a voice.

Was that Snatcher? Of course it had to be Snatcher, he was the only one you knew who had a permanent echo to his voice. On the contrary, he was NEVER noisy when by himself. He was quiet as a moonbeam until you actually walked into his hiding place. In fact, one might even go as far as to call him reserved., at least on his good days.

If Snatcher had anyone else in your bedroom, you wanted them out as soon as possible. You weren’t sure if having souls eaten in your home would lower your property value, but you really didn’t want to find out. Not to mention, Snatcher would probably make you clean up the aftermath.

The way to your bedroom somehow feels longer than usual, the noises getting louder as you traverse closer. It’s unmistakably Snatcher, but it doesn’t sound like anyone else is in there with him. There would be much more screaming, crying, whimpering, etc.

Though, you swear you _do_ hear whimpering.

You sneak along the edge of the hallway, tiptoeing as carefully as possible until you reach the doorway. You poke your head inside and glance around cautiously.

There lies Snatcher at his usual post, sprawled out on your bed with the pillows tossed every which way. His large body always took up most of the mattress, but he stayed rather stationary. He wasn’t usually so… wiggly.

His tail spilling off of the bed, resembling a snake trying to slither on silk. The mattress shakes from his trembling. Your eyes follow the tail up the rest of his slender form. You finally learn why he’s making so much noise for no good reason.

There they were.

_Your panties_.

_Wrapped around his cock._

You also learn that he preferred the two handed method.

There he was in all his glory, the so called King of Subcon, jacking it on _your_ bed. You almost can’t believe it, but it’s almost too easy to believe it. He didn’t have a care in the world as long as it benefited him. Any fucks he had were tossed out long ago.

His member is quite proportional, seeing as how he’s usually twenty feet tall or so. It also glows, so that’s a bonus. Even with your panties obscuring your view, the light emitting from his dick shines through it.

His head reclined on your pillow, his eyes shut tight, the way his mouth hung open. He’s enjoying himself, to say the least. You can’t help but continue to watch him, when his eyes suddenly snap open. He finally glances in your direction, causing you to gasp and revealing that you had been spying on him. He looks you in the eye as he continues to stroke himself.

"You like what you see?" 

_‘Please, just eat my soul now.’_

The embarrassment of getting caught makes it feel like your soul actually did leave your body. Even though you technically ‘caught’ him first. You have to compose yourself before he becomes unstoppably smug.

"I don't know if I can even pretend to be surprised at this point." It was bound to happen sooner or later, and Snatcher was always a 'sooner' type of person.

“Well, since you didn't use them, I took it upon myself to use them for you." His laugh lowers into a chuckle. "You wanted these back, didn't you?" He stops stroking himself to proudly brandish your panties.

"You can keep those." At this point, the panties couldn’t be differentiated from a used car wash rag. 

"Aw, I think you should model them for me. I worked so hard to improve it's design!"

"Jizzing on something doesn't improve it's design."

"Explain modern artwork."

_He got you on that one._

"I’m just gonna leave." It was your room, but you were convinced he wasn't budging at this point. You try to make a break for the door, but his voice stops you in your tracks once more.

"Aw, why don't you stay and watch?" He almost sounds disappointed.

You slowly turn to look at him, your head straining as it tries to resist the urge to stare.

Snatcher finally sets your underwear aside, giving you the full view as he starts to squeeze himself. His same glowing grin matched the excitement of his cock Even the end of his tail was wagging like he was just offered a fresh biscuit. He looked far too happy for someone who was just caught masturbating. 

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

“You simply caught me at the perfect moment.” He shrugs and feigns innocence.

“You seriously _want_ me to watch?” You try to confirm, still confused by whatever this foolish plan of his was.

“Come a bit closer, you have to view my best side.” He beckons you closer and you feel like your feet start moving by themselves.

“I’m not helping you. This is purely self service.” You tell him firmly as you park yourself on the bed.

“Do you care to wager on that?”

“Wager on _what exactly?_ Not giving you a handjob?” You ask rhetorically, knowing that he was never a fan of rhetorical questions.

“You can look, but you can’t touch.” He wags a finger at you, as if he expected you to do such a thing.

He wasn’t exactly wrong.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch, simply a friendly bet.” He assures as he waves his hand and a contract appears inside his fist. You know you can’t trust that smile of his, that’s where the trouble started in the first place. “What do you say?” The scroll of paper unfurls, revealing his carefully thought out terms and agreements.

All it says is ‘No Touchie.’

You start to think that his mind might be a bit too clouded by lust for him to actually be creative with this contract.

“You’re not going to let me stay here, in my own bedroom, unless I sign this, aren’t you?” You sigh.

“I could stay here for as long as it takes.”

You decide to not challenge that claim.

“Just letting you know that you’re a weirdo.” You nod towards him before taking the feather quill and signing your name.

“Says the one who actually signed the contract.”

The scroll disappears with a poof.

You settle in for the long run, staying a barely respectable distance from Snatcher and out of the ‘splash zone,’ so to speak.

"You better not get any jizz on me."

"Not to worry, I was aiming for your pillow anyway.”

You wouldn’t mention that you preferred it that way.

Snatcher went right back to giving himself a hand, as if you hadn’t even interrupted him in the first place. His smirk was almost as big as his face when he made sure you were watching. The noises quickly continued, though you could tell he was hamming it up.

“This is what you sound like when you jack off?” You ask, thinking if you tried to taunt him, this could be slightly less embarrassing for you.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t _love_ it.” If he had eyebrows, you swore he was wiggling them at you.

“You sound like you should be haunting a graveyard.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of attempting compliments.” He lets out a breathy chuckle as his rhythm slows.

“Oh, just be quiet, you pool noodle.” You huff at him as you try to think of a better comeback, though everything you say he’ll just take as a compliment.

“You seem to be enjoying this noodle.” He points out, wiggling his body in a very spaghetti like manner.

You can’t help but smile at this ridiculous display. 

“You look...you look like one of those dancing toys people put in car windows when you do that.” You snort, trying to imagine a tiny Snatcher toy.

“Do what? Oh, you mean this~?” He pretends to act surprised before he starts his odd mating dance again.

You try to hold in your laughter, but you were helpless to stop any snorts and chortles that escaped you.

“I didn’t sign a contract to watch you dance like a cactus! Stop that!” You couldn’t even pretend to be angry with him.

“Don’t you worry your horny little head, you’ll get your show.” He makes a show of patting your head before his hands ghost over his form. He starts rubbing on out again with little hesitation to his movements. 

“I’m still trying to figure out where your torso begins and ends.” Even with the placement of his junk, it didn’t make his ‘middle’ any clearer. “You don’t have a spine, do you?”

“I have several.” He assures quite cheerfully. “Oh? You meant one actually inside me? Then I’m fresh out of spine, sorry about that.”

“No ribs either?” You continue looking him up and down rather inquisitively. 

“What are you getting on about? Do I _look_ like a skeleton to you?” He narrows his eyes at you.

“Have you ever heard of a Tsuchinoko?”

Snatcher abruptly stops his movement. His eyes widen at you before he takes his sweet time to lean closer to you, his shadow hovering over you and enveloping you in its cold embrace.

_“Are you trying to suggest that I should suck my own dick?”_

You get the feeling that he’s heard that story before.

“Don’t people usually give suggestions when they watch peep shows like this?” You laugh nervously.

“Perhaps, but that’s only because the entertainer cannot physically reach through the internet and strangle them.” His vague warnings were usually enough for him to get the point across.

“Clearly, you’ve never been to a club before.”

“Well, I still wouldn’t get _fired_ for disposing of your particular suggestion, _but you might.”_

“Forget I said it.” You hold up your hands in surrender as you glance away from him.

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this that easy.” His voice goes back to sounding amused. “Hold this.”

Before you have a chance to look back at him, the end of his tail coils itself around your wrist. Using you for support, (though you were certain he didn’t actually need to,) he bends his lower half so that it’s hovering over his top half.

This bastard is really going for it.

His cock easily disappears into that big mouth of his, impressive for a few seconds, but it doesn’t exactly provide a good show. He’s there to show you some quality entertainment. Sucking up and down his length, his tongue slithers along the underside with each stroke. Seeing what that tongue could really do, you couldn’t help but imagine it elsewhere.

He’s really going for it too. As if this isn’t the first time he’s been down here. You couldn’t blame him. If it weren’t for your rib cage existing, you would probably try the same. 

He moans around his member, that sweet echo to his voice ringing in your ears as you watch him swallow around his own cock. You’re afraid that his tail might cut off the circulation to your arm if he squeezes any tighter. He suddenly stops, pulling his cock out of his mouth with the wettest, lewdest pop you could ever imagine.

“How rude of me… _would you care for a taste?”_

His tail pulls you closer to him as his arms tuck behind his head. Your hands reach out to cushion your fall, but you’ve landed straight into his neck floof.

You look up at him. His eyes half lidded, though they meet your gaze. You can detect just a hint of softness in his expression. It could be considered quite the feat, seeing as how he was so close to blowing his load by now.

Hands running through the fluffy bits on his body before they smooth down his noodly form. It’s a long way down, but he makes it easier to reach when his lower half curls around you.

You clutch the base and take in a moment to really assess what you’ve been offered before you lick up the shaft. For a moment, you think he might be self lubricating, but then you recognize the taste and figure that he must have found where you were hiding your lube. You dismiss the thought as you occupy yourself with sliding the rest of his cock down your throat.

His hand rests on the back of your head, but he’s far too tired and desperate to do any further bossing around. Any moans that escape sound genuine, or at least, not as melodramatic as before. If you knew you could get this kind of reaction out of him, you would have blown him a long time ago.

You can tell he tries to fuck your mouth, but he’s either too close to make the effort he wore himself with all that wiggling.

The moment his cum spurts into your mouth, it sends a chill down your spine. You could call it equally as flavorful as regular cum, but with the way you were shivering, you could hardly think of the taste. You swallow, ignoring the fact that you could see your breath.

For just a moment, you wonder what your mouth would look like under a blacklight.

You pull away from him, recline in the same manner that he usually did and prepare your smuggest look.

“Happy now?” You look down at him, admiring the blissed out look on his face and the lack of jerkiness that was left in his body.

He takes a moment to sit up and match your position.

“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t you remember our little agreement?” 

“Our what now?” You had completely forgotten, for the power of boner compelled you too strongly.

“You looked AND touched.”

“...Are you going to take my soul over a blowjob?” It would be an interesting way to go out, at least.

“No, but now it’s _my_ turn to look and touch.” His fingers inch over to your side, walking along your arm before pulling you to his chest. You have to pull your face out of his floof just to respond to him, 

“You could have just asked.”

_“It’s more fun this way.”_


End file.
